Page 88 of Twisted Embrace

“Uh-huh. Then who’s next. The Greeks? The French?”

“No, silly. They have no quarrels with us.”

She was so matter of fact about the situation that I was in awe, even if my stomach continued to churn. “Let me try on the other dress.” As I moved into the dressing room, I held the curtain open for a minute, studying Lucia’s face for a few seconds. She was obviously happy, so much so she glowed as if a constant aura surrounded her.

I was beginning to wonder when the lust would leave, allowing me to face reality. I prayed that didn’t happen. I quickly glanced at Anthony, the man nothing more than a statue. The fact he seemed to respect Enzo did say something about my fiancé’s character.

I only hoped it was enough.

The fourth dress I’d selected was simple, no long train to trip me up during the ceremony. While the deep V in the front was revealing, the smooth silk wrapping around the rest of my body indicated sophistication with a slight sexy flair.

Once it was on, I stood back against the curtain, eyeing the woman standing in front of me. I had to admit, I did look beautiful. Classy. I had no idea if it was something Enzo would find appealing. I allowed myself to think about the wedding for a few seconds. We hadn’t talked about a location or if it would be a religious ceremony, although he’d already teased that he’d erupt into flames if he dared enter a church.

While I didn’t know Lucia to be particularly religious, I was certainly aware that she, Sophia, and Enzo had been brought up Catholic. Perhaps it was her mother’s attempt at providing stability and good will in a house full of violence and pain. Just as I was about to step out of the dressing room, a strange series of sensations swept through me. Then a vision popped into my mind that was so graphic, I fell against the dressing room wall.

Blood. Bodies everywhere. Fire.

Then I saw Enzo’s face.

And his vacant eyes.

* * *

Enzo

“Enough time has passed. I need answers, Misha.” I ended the call, almost crushing the phone in my hand.

“Misha. A Russian?”

“Someone I can trust from the right side of the law.” I laughed after making the statement. There was no right side inside the Russian borders. There were only those considered less vicious in their reshaping of their government and the people within. I knew enough about the tactics used by the KGB to remain out of the country for the foreseeable future. They were almost as merciless as the Volkovs.

“Interesting.”

“As you said before, gathering every scrap of information is in our best interest.”

“Yes, I did. Stop pacing,” D’Artagnan snarled. “We’ll be landing shortly.”

Since the plane had finally taken off almost forty-five minutes before, I’d walked back and forth, unable to clear my mind of Joy’s warning. My instinct wasn’t allowing for any dissuasion of the vicious thoughts stinging the back of my mind. “You’re certain you trust the people who provided you with the information on Romano?”

Dar chuckled, leaning back in the leather seat as he studied me. “Three separate sources, including a document emailed last night.”

I’d seen the document he was referencing, transfer of several properties originally held by the Romano family to Grigori Volkov himself, the Pakhan’s signature easily recognizable. It could be a counterfeit, which was one of the few reasons we hadn’t arranged for additional soldiers to move in. However, it did appear that Romano had sold the homes to allow for a village of Russians to be created near where the bridge was being built. It was an excellent location to house their boats, allowing them access up and down the coast of Italy within hours.

“I don’t like this at all. We should have forced Romano to come to us.”

“He wouldn’t have done that,” Dar said casually. “Although I could have forced his hand.”

“Yes, you could have required a meeting of the Five Families.”

Dar took a deep breath, glancing out the window of the jet. “Unfortunately, Don Rizzo considers Giuseppe Romano a close friend.”

“Since when?”

“Since there is some talk of Antonio now marrying his daughter.”

I found the news fascinating since my father had attempted to secure an arranged marriage between Lucia and Antonio Romano, Giuseppe’s only male heir.

“You and I need to work on our communication skills.”

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